


High treason

by Oryu404



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: But Sting would tag this as angst, Comedy, M/M, Prompt: Betrayal, Stingue Week, Stingue Week 2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21575929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oryu404/pseuds/Oryu404
Summary: Sting returns home and finds out that Rogue has betrayed him in a way he never thought he would.
Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21
Collections: Stingue Week 2019





	High treason

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for Stingue Week 2019, for the prompt betrayal.
> 
> Does this count as fashionably late?  
> Sorryyyy.....
> 
> If you'd like to have a chat with me about Fairy Tail, my stories, or writing/art in general, click on the link to join our discord [The Unholy Trinity](https://discord.gg/2w9QBmkPd7)!

When Sting came home and entered the living room he was greeted by a delightful sight. His boyfriend was taking up the entire couch, laid back against a couple of pillows, and dressed in a pair of sweats and one of his t-shirts. His hair was all tousled, the shirt had ridden up and was exposing a sliver of cream-colored skin just above the hem of his pants, and his eyes were glued to the movie lacrima that was playing reruns of a sci-fi series they had already seen ages ago.

Sting was extensively enjoying the view, following the shapes and lines of Rogue’s body and observing the subtle rise and fall of his chest. In his imagination his fingertips were tracing paths where his eyes were wandering, his lips were dying to follow, and when he got stuck on the unintentionally racy way Rogue was sucking on a spoon he had to clap his jaws back together again.

He was just about to announce his presence - not that he really needed to, Rogue had probably heard if not smelled him when he entered the house- but then he noticed what that small metal spoon had been paired with; a little plastic cup with a familiar label on it sitting in one of Rogue’s hands.

_Wait a minute…  
_

“Is that my dessert?” Sting demanded to know, unable to keep the outrage from showing in his voice as he marched over to the couch and peered into the cup. Yep, it was empty, completely devoured, and the culprit behind this felony wasn’t even trying to sell him innocence or shame. He just smirked at him in all his smug glory.

“It was.” 

Sting was speechless for a moment, shocked by the lack of remorse Rogue was showing.

"But why?" he finally managed to get out of his mouth.

"Do you know how many times I've opened the cupboard to find my cup ramen gone?"

"Oh, I see. So this is a retaliation then?"

"Retaliation? Sting, we're talking about a cup of vanilla pudding, not organized crime. If you want a dessert so badly, there's still a can of whipped cream in the refrigerator. That's practically a food group to you anyway."

"It's not about the dessert!" Sting scoffed at Rogue, who raised his brow in response. "I trusted you and you-“

He was cut off when Rogue got up from the couch and shoved a finger in his mouth, coated with the last traces of the pudding he had swiped out of the cup. Sting didn’t have it in him to resist the creamy sweetness he tasted on his tongue, it was all he had left of the dessert he had been looking forward to and so he made sure to get as much as he could. But then his eye’s met Rogue’s as he was eagerly sucking his finger, and he could read them like an open book. This was a trap, without a doubt, and he had taken the bait blindly.

“And I...what?”

Oh no, not today. He may have lost the battle but he was not going to lose the war.

“Fuck you! I see what you’re trying to do!” he yelled, slowly backing away from Rogue, who was stuck between confusion and entertainment. “Well guess what? I’m not going to fall for your wicked tactics!” He stomped into the kitchen to grab the whipped cream, and then up the stairs, muttering complaints and a “don’t even think about following me.”

Rogue reclined on the couch again, with a snort and a shrug, snuggling into the collection of small pillows as he turned his attention back to the movie lacrima.

“Wicked tactics, huh?” he mused. He took a quick look at the clock and then at the stairs, following the loud sound of the bedroom door slamming shut.

“I’ll give it five minutes.”


End file.
